Here I will take a few moments to collect the drippnig pieces of my brain and put them together before they melt. Yes. Before the shower and the dressing you up in my love. all over all over. I don't even know if that's how the song goes.

But you try going to work like I do at eight in the morning when I had a show last night and you couldn't have expected me to get to bed early enough [if you're brilliant you wouldn't have expected sleep at all] and fucking. walk around all day and deal with bitchfaces. SATURDAY MORNING IS FULL OF BITCHFACES AND HAVING PARANOID ANDROID AND A TEARS FOR FEARS SONG STUCK IN YOUR HEAD.

Carrying trays off my shoulder because I didn't care and wondering if that blank shift turned into a blackout if I could manage to spare the food the way I did my drink when I fell down the stairs at the Ice Palace.

The smell of liver is nothing to the smell of eggs over bacon over hollandaise over sausage over eggs over pancakes over ham over stack after stack after stack of burnt toast and MY GOD. corn beef hash in all it's great pungent presence could make me slit my wrists with the ice cream scoop. But for all the seventyfive cent little old people with their funny hair and vacant stare when asked how they'd like their eggs styled, breakfast is big fat cash and earning five dollars off a table multiple times feels even better in the morning.

These mornings I sleep at work routinely AS A MATTER OF PRINCIPLE. I've got five minutes, Oh! excuse me, I'm going to the bathroom! and I will sit and look at my watch and with my elbows on my knees my chin in my hands I will close my eyes for a full five minutes and just sit quiet and undisturbed and no numbers no side dishes no mohammed making strange noises in the back of the kitchen. just pristine tiled tranquility. Sitting is never to be taken for granted.

And it has worked! Look at me making sense the best I know how. At least now I can form a sentence instead of 'droaooop sleepy ohno whati'ddo whoo dickdale! fucking. bitchfaces.' which was pretty much all you could get out of me earlier.